


noodle's a whore

by orphan_account



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Cocaine, Drugs, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 16:22:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22499005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	noodle's a whore

Gorillaz hadn't been working on a new album in months. Rumors were going around that 2d and murdoc were retiring, or (2d was finally standing up to him) and by extension, breaking up the band. All of it was news to noodle. She'd been in a hotel somewhere between Miami and Homestead when she'd gotten the official call that the vacation she was on would be extended indefinitely.  
Panic never really set in for her. She'd been in gorillaz for most of her whole life so the fact that she now had to find work elsewhere, that what defined 'her' was gone should've shaken her a lot more than it did, but it just didn't. If anything she felt it more as a minor inconvenience. She'd been spending a decent amount of her money (residuals and royalties she guessed now that the band was broken up) on blow, cheap boys, and dumb luxuries she didn't want let alone need, since she'd been out of the studio. The idea that it was over hit her like the end of the vacation would've if she'd been dragged back to England.  
Noodle put down her phone and stretched, humming to herself. She could probably find work elsewhere. People weren't really looking for musicians anymore as much as 'personalities' to act like they were making music, but fans of gorillaz would probably want to see her perform solo. Noodle hesitated on the idea, looking at her guitar. She tried to imagine being the lead on a band, or even just finding an agent to represent her. Hollywood wasn't too far away. She knew people there that could put her up and get her back on her feet, then OJ for breakfast, TV till noon, flights for the next 4 months from talk show to studio to recording, then back out on stage with the roaring crowd that didn't know what noodle meant about her songs, desperate to hear noodle say something to fix the world, something even noodle didn't know how or what would be.  
Noodle grimaced. She didn't know why she was overthinking it, but something about that life just didn't sit with her. Not here. Maybe it was that expectation, but even the idea of playing in a coffee house sounded like hell to her. She could see the tabloids already. 'Once famous star noodle, now playing in starbucks, HAS SHE OFFICIALLY HIT ROCK BOTTOM?! BAWOWAWOW'. She already wanted to throw up.  
Noodle flopped onto her bed, looking up at the ceiling fan. She could kill herself, she supposed. Cobain's music was still relevant after he put a shotgun between his teeth. She could tie her clothes into a noose and hang herself as soon as her money ran out, or before and make it look like it was more important than money. Yeah, cause songs that start with lighting a bong and broken love are really on the same level as drinking tea deciding on an abortion and being so depressed that you'd miss being sad instead of emptiness. Noodle sighed. She knew she didn't really want to anyway.  
...She was really starting to hate the colour of the ceiling. Beige. Who the hell paints a ceiling beige? Paint it blue, or orange, or green, or at least paint it white. Go all the way, don't half ass it. Who was looking for a beige coloured room? 'Well, we wanted little jimmy to get used to the idea of being a desk clerk for the entirety of his adult life, so we figured we'd paint his room like an office building.' Noodle put the bottle down for a second, holding her head on either side.  
Minimum wage was out of the question for her. Not the 'fast life, to bagging groceries' hangover, or the inevitable TMZ bullshit, just the idea of being tied down to one place doing the same thing was... well, OK, maybe it was the 'fast life to bagging groceries' hangover. But not because of the drugs. She could stop whenever she wanted. Or the buying garbage. She didn't need any of that.  
Retirement might've been an option. She didn't like the idea of retiring in her late 20s, either. Was that even living? Not having to strive for anything, not doing anything, just... golf? She assumed retirement was golf. Golf with old people in a conservative home with 3 kids and an SUV, her body gaining weight, her mind turning to mom jokes, the idea of 'her little Wiggins' doing coke being unthinkable. Being in the middle of a PTA meeting and trying to say through broken English that she wanted her spawn to look up to Margret thatcher. Noodle looked back up at the fan. Suicide was still an option.  
Noodle closed the door to the mini bar, pina colada's weren't right for Florida, and there weren't any strawberries for a Miami Vice. She flicked the roach out the window and exhaled the last of the smoke. Either way, she figured, she'd need to see some of her Hollywood contacts just to keep up with her supplies. Good drugs were difficult to come by in Florida. Meth was everywhere, but meth was for people who couldn't afford coke. Coke was plentiful enough, but coke was for addicts. Hallucinogenics were the real trick. She'd been staying away from them for the vacation, but last week she'd been nostalgic for them and started shaking a few grapevines. 7 tabs of ecstacy (all gone now) and another dimebag as an apology, but no shrooms, acid, dmt, or even peyote. Noodle couldn't say she was too surprised. The over-saturated green lawns, constant plastic flamingos, smell of dog shit, and homeless that looked like they should just stop were enough to give anyone a bad trip.  
Noodle looked out to the beach. Cool night air blew across her skin. At least the weather was better than the UK, she could say that much. She looked down at the mostly empty streets, a few cars driving in the direction of Miami, but nowhere near as many as if she'd been there. A girl in a hoodie had her face lit by an overly bright phone, a cigarette sticking out of her mouth. Noodle wondered who she was texting. Boyfreind probably. Maybe girlfreind. She'd tried that at a few parties, everyone she knew had, but she couldn't see herself doing it for more than a night or two. A part of her remembered the last time she had. She'd been a fan of noodle's music, noodle couldn't remember her name (and the weed wasn't helping that now), Noodle kept that little 'no' down as they kissed, as she went down on noodle, as noodle returned the favor. It was like the first time she'd done coke. Forget the queasiness, suck, focus on the pleasure, all be over soon, kill a night. Probably the same experience as a lesbian pretending she was into dick. Poor girls of a stupider time.  
Noodle shut the window and picked up her phone. She then put the straw down and picked up her phone for real, giving a little sniffle as her brain started to hit that familiar sparkle. Male escorts were so much more rare than female, and so many of them were so terrified of 'catching the gay' that it had to be a game of settling especially in such a small town. One of them, 'Apollo', seemed like the best of a bad situation, though he looked more like a ron if she was being honest. Packing, even if he didn't look like it. Her thumb hesitated over the phone number, when she had a thought. Well, 52 thoughts at once, but one of them was lingering on the side of her brain. A bad thought, one that could've been pushed by any number of the narcotics she'd been downing, but now was on the corner of her mind, intriguing her.  
Noodle's thumb moved to the female escort button, and she looked over who was available. More than the male's, a good amount more, but then she started plinking away at them. This one was overweight, this one was charging too much, that one was a scam, that one was also a scam, that one too, this one only put one ad in the past 4 months, that one was also a scam. In 20 minutes, she had a list of girls in the area, and it was far far less than the initial ads spelled out. Competition.  
Noodle looked at the names and thought for a moment. She didn't mind the idea of going online here and now if this was something she wanted to do forever, but she didn't like the idea of this coming back up in a few weeks if she wasn't. She went to her suitcase and rummaged through the rags she had looking for the cheapest, sluttiest thing she could find. Some garbage from one brand or another, pants that would do fine. It was skin tight, and 'designed to look like you didn't give a fuck' which meant it looked as cheap as anything you could find at the thrift store. Noodle took a pair of scissors and cut the bottoms off, making the once overpriced fabric into something actually useful.  
Too much makeup, a quick check of herself in the mirror, and she was ready for miami. No one would recognize her. A blessing of being japanese was to just say you were someone else and call the other person racist. The drawback was the amount of people that thought she was one Jpop star or another. It was what it was. Maybe it was the blow, maybe it was the newly crafted hooker wear, but she had to admit she looked fantastic. Her ass seemed to be straining to break through the fabric, and whenever she bent over she could feel the stitching strain. She cracked her neck back and forth, Miami was the next stop.  
Noodle stopped at the door handle. She felt like she was forgetting something. She turned back to her suitcase and looked through the pockets. Heroin, clothes, a stuffed animal, her vibrator, she'd already packed condoms into her purse, and the same with blush... something was bothering her though. Suddenly her hand connected with something big and metal in her front pocket. Noodle smiled to herself, and pulled out the 9mm handgun. She couldn't remember who gave it to her, or what the specific make and model were, but she did have to admit, it was large, and it was threatening. She hadn't taken it out of her suitcase since she'd gotten it, but how hard could shooting really be? Point, pull, run. She stuffed the gun into her purse, and shut the door behind her. It was only 8pm and she was burning through the night.

Miami was like every other city too big for it's britches. Hot, filled with smog, humid, noisy and busy. Noodle liked it. She'd skipped it looking for someplace quiet, but the quiet got too quiet. Any day now, she was sure the building next to hers or 2 apartments down would be calling the cops on her for the men coming in, or the snorting. Here, it was just right. She was anonymous. And it was perfect.  
The cabbie already knew where to take her when she'd said that she was looking for the red light district. The way she'd said it though, and the look in his eyes was pissing noodle off a little. 'oh young child, you need not steer into the valley of tempta- your eyes are bleeding'. Noodle checked the makeup mirror, her eyes were not in fact bleeding, but her nose was just starting to. She wiped herself off on her sleeve, and looked out at the neon, watching girls in much more makeup and far sluttier outfits strut by, usually followed by men with more hair on their chest than their head.  
"I could take you back if you wanted, ma'am." Noodle looked at the man in confusion. "I won't charge nothin."  
"Sweet of you, but no thanks." Noodle had taken an accent elimination course years ago, but a little part of her was still self conscious about it, always trying to speak carefully to make sure it was still gone. "There isn't anything back there." They rode in silence for another 2 minutes before the cabbie pulled over. Noodle took out some bills from her purse, and started counting out the money, with an extra tip. Let the good people be good people. Certainly weren't enough of them.  
Waiting was the worst part. A half hour passed before noodle took out her phone, fucking around on twitter and facebook. Dull, meaningless, white bubbles in the night, but dumb bullshit like a dog saying 'right back atcha' was what she needed tonight. It helped kill the next 2 hours, with occasional glances to the road whenever someone drove slow enough to check her out. Finally someone actually stopped, waving in her direction. She tried her best strut to the window, remembering when she was a kid playing 'vice city'. She leaned against the open window.  
"How much?"  
"100 for an hour, full service." She was going half the average, but she wasn't looking for cash yet. He wasn't awful looking anyway. Well, he wasn't attractive, but noodle had hired worse than him before. Plump, thinning hair, tall, long head, blue eyes, he looked like a confused infant. The man nodded and noodle hopped in, unbuttoning her shorts.  
"H-hang on, let me get somewhere more private." He seemed more nervous than she was. Noodle shrugged and leaned back, enjoying the cheap springs poking her in the back as the car drove. The coke was still buzzing in her brain, the weed was fading, but the liquor was doing its thing. She could feel relaxed for a second.  
They'd driven for 15 minutes looking for somewhere properly abandoned. Dark enough. For a moment Noodle considered that the man had taken her to be mugged, raped, killed, etc, but she wasn't really worried about that. She'd killed more than one person with her bare hands and the gun had more than 5 shots in the clip. She assumed. It was more explaining why X dead people were surrounding her to the police that would bother her. Or them searching her bags and finding things. She'd gotten out of worse, but it could still be a pain in the ass.  
"Ok. We're here." The man looked to noodle expectantly. "I've um... I've never done this before. Can you just do whatever's normal for these k-" Noodle put a finger to his lips, and nodded. A part of her was a little pissed, she was hoping her first time wouldn't be an improv session. She unbuttoned her shorts and slipped out of them. She rubbed herself a bit. Dry. Fuck. She put a hand on the man's chest.  
"Lean back?" She suggested.  
"Oh! Right, yeah!" He stammered, rolling his seat back and leaning it down flat. Noodle didn't let the annoyance show and hid a smile. She just meant like a bit further, but whatever. Noodle yanked down the man's pants, letting the dick spring up from the waistband. Below average, but not terrible. Fast food noodle thought to herself with a silent smile. She gave him a kiss.  
Ok, not the best hygiene either, but at least she wasn't tasting 8 flavors of pussy juice. She licked along it, letting him sweat for a second, moaning and shaking. He was blabbering something too, some nonsense about how attractive she was and that this was his first time and that he'd heard that dark alleys was what you were supposed to do with whores because of vampires, it didn't matter. Noodle popped the dick into her mouth and he gave a squeak and finally shut up. That was more like it.  
Noodle knew she was kneeling in something beneath his steering wheel. She didn't want to know. The steering wheel was jamming into her back uncomfortably, but she tried not to notice that either. She was zeroed in on the dick. That, and the two fingers she was rubbing furiously over her own sex trying to get it a jump start. Below average or not, she didn't want this to be the first time she fucked someone without feeling up for it.  
Noodle started rolling her tongue over the head, playing with the grooves, teasing the poor boy as much as she could. It wasn't anything worthwhile, just a stalling tactic to buy time, but she wouldn't know it listening to him screaming how amazing she was. Too much porn probably. 'Oh, step sis, your tongue is so goooood'.  
Finally noodle was getting somewhere below. She was at least a little wet, and that'd have to be enough for tonight. Noodle went down on the cock and throated it as far as she could, feeling it press against the back of her tongue, and just tickle her tonsil. She Rocked her head up and down, bouncing along it as fast as she could, jerking him off with her mouth. Her hand went to his balls, cupping them as he got closer. Finally they contracted, he fell back, and noodle got a mouthful of cum. Noodle wiped what was left off of her lips and stood up in the car, bending over the man.  
"How was that?"  
"...You were... fantastic." He said between breaths. "Are fantastic!" He added quickly. "Am fantastic?" Noodle put a finger to his lips again.  
"You talk too much." She said smiling. She reached for her purse and pulled out a condom from the row, ripping it open with her teeth and sliding it onto his cock.  
"I thought you were supposed to use those for head, too?" He asked. Noodle looked down at him condescendingly at first, ready to implement a 'no talking' rule from now on, when she realized he was completely right. Her expression went from shock to annoyance.  
"I'll remember next time." she said, waving it off.  
"U-uh-huh." He stammered back, swallowing dryly. Noodle rubbed herself against the length. It'd been a while since she'd fucked someone with a 'comfortable' dick size. If there was one thing she looked out for in her escorts it was length. Lowering herself onto the cock below, she didn't even know why she did. Watching that poor stupid virgin squirm and pant, awkward as all hell while she rocked her hips back and forth enjoying herself was so much better than the pain of just shoving and jackhammering. She started bouncing up and down a bit, feeling him twitching in time to her hip thrusts. She leaned in, picking up speed as he started to move with her, getting deeper and faster, hitting all the right buttons. She could feel him, she could feel his pulse through his dick, bouncing inside of her. She was close. She grabbed one of the man's hands and put it under her shirt. He started squeezing and massaging, tweaking her nipple a little. Noodle moaned. So close. She just needed something else. The man grabbed noodle's ass with his other hand, as if following instincts, rocking noodles hips back and forth for her, making her move faster. He squeezed down and one of his fingers slipped inside of her.  
That was what pushed her over the edge.  
Noodle cried out in shock and ecstasy and came her heart out, clamping down and feeling the man beneath her filling the condom inside of her. Noodle shook over him, while the man fell back in pure exhaustive bliss. Noodle panted and gasped and then fell on top of him, finally pushed along that white dragon she needed.  
After a few minutes the pair pushed apart, finally pulling the condom out from inside of her. Noodle tied it off, not sure what to do with it, and stuffed it into her purse. The man cleared his throat.  
"That... that was amazing."  
"mmmhmm." Noodle nodded along, enjoying the feel. The man started driving.  
"...it's uh... it's 1am. I picked you up at 12, right?" Noodle looked back at him.  
"Yes. One hour." The man fished into his jacket pocket, pulling out his wallet with one hand and laid it on his lap.  
"You want me to drop you where I found you?"  
"Thank you, yes." Noodle had actually forgotten why she'd done this in the first place. She was considering just saying 'no charge, thanks for the V card' and pissing off back to the hotel, but he seemed almost eager to pay. Respect she supposed. When they'd finally gotten back to the corner he'd found her at, he opened up the wallet, and gave her the hundred, then added a 20.  
" It's a tip." He said, awkwardly. "For such a good time." Noodle nodded, and put the money into her purse. Again, normally she wouldn't, but she wasn't doing this for money either way, and she assumed a professional would. "Can I call you again?" Noodle looked at him. "F-for business I mean. I'm not weird." She frowned.  
"Nnnno." she said hesitantly. She wasn't going to be on this corner again, anyway, but the type to buy their first time was probably the type to be 'weird' about it. Besides, it wasn't like she had a burner phone or anything, this was more of a 'one time' thing.  
"O-oh." He actually did seem a little disappointed. "Well, I'll see- I mean, I won't I'll... I'll assume that you say that because we both just met and be on my way." He smiled awkwardly and started driving away. Noodle watched him drive off, thinking to herself, then looked at the money he'd given her. She hoisted her purse and started walking. She needed to find a cab, and here, this late, that wasn't going to be an option.  



End file.
